


A Momentary Lapse in Reality

by hella_natural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella_natural/pseuds/hella_natural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy Novak comes from a troubled household, and years later cannot escape its grasp. He sees people who aren't really there, and 2 people in particular. Michael and Lucifer follow Jimmy, trying to get him to realize the truth. But, who can Jimmy really trust?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only Son

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP.

PROLOGUE 

“Just imagine it’s not there.”  
“I can’t.”  
“Try.”  
“I. Can’t.”

The door burst open and the smell of cheap booze filled the room. A tall shadow loomed over the two children. A small boy ran across the room as he watched a wave of red hair being pulled outside. He closed his eyes and tried to do what his sister had told him. He laid on the floor and dreamt of stars.

His stars burned out and he opened his eyes. His sister was lying next to him, but now her snow like skin had patches of dirt showing through. He took two of his fingers and kissed them before pressing them against one of the patches on her leg. She taught him that bruises were where your heart was beating extra hard, where you needed the most love. 

“Anna” he barely whispered. “Anna.” He nudged her shoulder and her eyes softly fluttered open, attentive. “Are you doing bad?” She shook her head with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was never “are you doing okay?” That wasn’t always the right question. 

The boy, barely age 11, was a child in only the technical sense. He was already hardened and no longer green. His green had faded to a black a long time ago. He was a little terror, but his sister dealt with that everyday. His report cards always came back saying “lashes out”, “doesn’t work well with classmates”, “troublemaker”. But his sister just shredded them.

He got up and peeked out the door. His father passed out on the couch with beer cans scattered across the floor. He snuck to the kitchen and pulled out the box of cereal that his dad didn’t like. He took it back to the bedroom and laid the colored circles out on the floor. He used blues and purples to make a sky with yellows spread throughout to make stars. He placed greens underneath to create the ground. He used an orange, a red and a blue to place himself in this imaginary scene. He began to eat the leftovers as he looked at his work. How lonely. One big sky and one tiny boy, he thought. He took two more oranges, reds and blues to create two other boys. “That’s not so bad”, he said under his breath.

He saw his sister moving out of the corner of his eye and looked over to her. She silently crawled over to his cereal creation and her eyes glowed. She smiled and laughed, “That’s awesome, Jimmy.” He looked down and smiled as he shoved another handful of cereal into his mouth. “Let me take a picture of it.” She mumbled as she reached underneath their bed. She pulled out a leather-bound journal and flipped to the next empty page. She pulled out her colored pencils and began to draw the scene in front of her. Jimmy watched her hands make tiny circles on the paper, as they formed something beautiful. Whenever his sister drew, she made her subject look ten times prettier than it actually was. One time she drew Jimmy and the drawing looked nothing like what he saw in the mirror. He thought it was beautiful. 

That night he dreamt of her drawing. He closed his eyes and looked up at the sky to look at the shooting stars. He felt the burn of tears beginning to form, but he wasn’t quite sure why. Behind him stood the boys, who were now men. They looked at him with pity- no, concern, in their eyes. “Lucifer.” He whispered, and one of the men turned toward him, but looked down at his feet. “Michael.” He heard himself say. The man turned to him and looked as if he was about to reach out to him, but he stopped himself. A forced, “Cas” came from Michael. He turned away as soon as he knew Jimmy could see his eyes beginning to water.

Jimmy woke up with his cheeks wet and his sister no where to be found.He had no time to think over the dream. As he wiped them on his shirt, he heard yelling from across the house. “Where the hell is that bitch? Jim! Boy! Where is Anna?” Jimmy looked at the sloppily closed window, with the screen almost falling out and a little crack still open at the bottom. He could see a smear of blood from her hand on the windowsill and also asked, where the hell is Anna?

 

CHAPTER 1

Jimmy is no longer 11, but 38. Jimmy is no longer stable, but volatile. Jimmy is no longer helpless, but hopeless. He is no longer Jimmy.

26 years before he had been told Michael and Lucifer weren’t real. He has been told by a nice lady in a bright room that some of the voices that he heard were only in his head. That he created them as a moral balance. She asked when he started hearing them, seeing them, and he said the night his sister went away and he realized she wasn’t going to come back for him. She wrote some things down on her white clipboard and asked if there was anything else he wanted to share. He shook his head. His father sent him away because he had begun to fear him. 

Michael and Lucifer were his only visitors. Even when Jimmy didn’t want them there, the two were always in the back of his mind. Over the years he has learned the best ways to block them out, but it still didn’t erase them.

Today he told his doctor that he had only heard Michael talk to him once this week and she replied saying it was a ‘breakthrough’. Jimmy was sometimes disappointed when Michael wasn’t around. Dr. Mills said he shouldn’t be, and he knew that. Sometimes Michael was the only one he wanted to listen to. He used sit on his bed with his back curled and would talk with Michael for hours. Jimmy would talk about the sky and Michael would talk about the earth. Jimmy would talk about his sister and Michael would talk about his brother. But now, on most days, Jimmy sits by himself where he could see out of the window, and just watch. He concentrated on anything besides the nagging voices. The nurses would bring him food on those days, but he would never touch it. He didn’t move on those days so he didn’t even know why they tried. 

But today he ate. He walked to the cafeteria and grabbed a slice of toast and spread a little bit of honey on top. He had already scarfed it down by the time he walked out of the metal doors leading to the hallway. He dragged his feet to group therapy, counting each tile that he touched on the floor, trying to waste time. His efforts were in vain for he still reached group on time. He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.

Group wasn’t as bad as Jimmy tried to convince himself. He actually almost enjoyed knowing he’s not the only one with a few loose screws. That’s all he heard when he was growing up. He moved to his seat, on the right of Dr. Mills, and looked around the circle. Joanna, Gordon, Ruby, Chuck, Tessa, Edgar. It was the same everyday, except some days Tessa would wander off for hours where no one could find her. Joanna would always start, and she always gets pissed because Dr. Mills refused to call her Jo. JImmy quietly listens to everyone else talk about their day and how they’re feeling. But when it reached him, Dr. Mills asked him a different question. 

“Jimmy, how are Michael and Lucifer doing?” Jimmy was a bit caught off guard and stumbled over his first word. “Um, they- they are doing well. I think. Um, I’ve been trying not to pay attention to them. Lately, that is. And, um, why are you asking me this?” Dr. Mills had always tried to ‘disencourage feeding his delusion’ because it was ‘unhealthy to have such involved relationships with your imagination’. 

“I know they aren’t real, so why are you concerned with their well being?” He knew they aren’t real. Jimmy had always known, but for a long time he chose not to believe it. There is a drastic difference between the two. Jimmy waited for an answer as Dr. Mills looked down at her clipboard with a smile. She scribbled down a few things and looked up to Jimmy. 

“I think you reached another breakthrough, Jimmy.” She said, with a true happiness in her face. Jimmy bowed his head and tried to seem happy and apparently Dr. Mills bought it, because she dismissed the group soon after. 

As he walked out of the room, Ruby tried to make conversation with him, but he didn’t really feel like talking much at all. He looked at her and acted as if he was listening, but he was just watching her mouth move. It’s strange how you can see and hear the words being formed, but they can sound like nonsense if you aren’t concentrating hard enough. It’s like hearing another language you used to know, but it has been years and your memories are faded. If you just tried a little bit harder, you could understand, but you don’t feel like putting forth the effort. While he was lost in his train of thought, he figured Ruby realized he really wasn’t listening and she walked away, uninterested. He didn’t really mind. 

Jimmy walked to his room and sat on his bed. He could hear the rain hit the roof, making a haphazard rhythm. Every once in a while, he could hear thunder rolling like a drum crescendoing in the storm’s orchestra. Jimmy closed his eyes and listened to this strange music, letting it fill every crack in him. He smiled in spite of it. If rain could fill all the cracks in him he should have been out of this hospital years ago. He watched the storm from his window until his eyelids grew heavy. 

After he had laid in bed looking at the ceiling for 5 minutes, he realized he couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how tired he felt. His eyes begged to stay open and his mind was running endlessly on the nightmarish fuel of night. Night always brought memories with it, as if they were old friends. He tried to block them out with thoughts of his made up world where he meant something. Ideas of belts and broken bottles began to slip through the cracks of his make-believe, and he tried to plug up the holes in vain. He found himself screaming in this restless state, though he didn’t remember opening his mouth. He stopped, and he felt a rush of fear and relief through his body. He hadn’t had these nightmares in months. They had stopped when he was told his father was dead. He felt guilty about his lack of emotion, but he was glad to be able to live without fear. He figured the feeling had passed and that his nightmares decided to come back and play.

Jimmy slowly stood up and paced the room, gathering his thoughts, trying to calm his mind. He heard Michael and Lucifer talking behind him. He just wanted them to go away. Not now, not now, not now, he thought. He reminded himself that they were not really there, no matter how real, how complex, how human, how inhuman. He shook his head as if it shook hard enough all his thoughts would fly out. 

He went to sit on his bed, in attempt to ease his way into sleep. He thought of his world. With magic and monsters and angels and demons and love and despair. Years ago, Jimmy decided to see himself as an author. That he was accidentally placed inside two stories at once and they sometimes flood into one another. He was an angel in one story and a human in another. He was a hero in one and crazy in another. He hated the overlapping. He hated hearing voices no one else could, but Jimmy had learned optimism is very important when you’ve finally convinced yourself you’ve gone crazy. 

He laid in bed and was to tired to protest Michael and Lucifer. The two came from the back of the room to right in front of him.   
“Hey,” said a gruff voice. “It sure has been a while.” 

*****

Jimmy woke up from his sleep, happy the storm didn’t break his dream. He missed being an angel. He missed being important. Jimmy knew it wasn’t good for him, giving in, but it was just so nice not being himself.

He got up, trying to silence Michael’s voice, and headed towards the cafeteria. He always ate alone, unless Ruby came and sat by him. He silently appreciated her company because she wanted someone to talk to and he wanted someone to listen to. He considered Ruby the closest thing he had to a friend here. She rambled on about her breakfast and her dreams last night as Jimmy slowly ate his toast. Jimmy thinks Ruby is a wonderful storyteller because she can make anything sound interesting. Even if she is describing walking down the hallway, she makes it seem as if it were an adventure. Jimmy figures when she gets out of here, she will make a great writer. He told her this and she stopped in her tracks.

“Thank you, Jimmy.” She said, with her face melting into a completely different, softer, expression. She smiled and looked down at her breakfast for a minute before talking again. Jimmy was thankful she could carry a conversation by herself. 

Jimmy glanced at the clock, seeing that it was time to go see Dr. Mills and saw Meg walking his way. 

“Come on, Jimmy. Dr. Mills needs you.” She says with a friendly smirk. Jimmy enjoys Meg’s presence, no matter how few and far between, because she truly cared about his well-being. 

As the pair walked down the hallway, Meg tried to make small talk, asking how he was, how he felt. He said okay and fine, though he could tell she wasn't satisfied with those answers. She gave him a friendly glare and said, "No, really. How are you?" 

Jimmy smiled, looking down at his shoes, "I really am okay. It's the same as any other day." It was a half lie, but Meg seemed a little bit happier with that answer. 

"Whatever, grumpy." She said with a smile as she opened the door to Dr. Mills office. Jimmy looked back at Meg with eyes telling her not to worry. She might have understood, because she slightly nodded before heading back into the hall. 

"Take a seat, Jimmy." Dr. Mills said. She looked down at the papers on her desk and started using medical jargon that Jimmy only understood half of. All he got from it was that his dosage of depression medicine would be lowered and that he had been doing a lot better recently. He nodded as he tried to decipher the rest. 

"How have you been feeling lately?" Dr. Mills' tone had changed to something of concern. 

Jimmy took a deep breath and answered, "Well, I've been doing okay. I hear things less often." (half lie) "I am not having as bad of nightmares." (half lie) "I feel really great actually." (full lie)

Dr. Mills looked as if she knew he was lying, but he kept a stone face. "If your nightmares are getting better than how come I'm getting reports of you screaming at 3 o'clock last night?" Dr. Mills questioned.

Jimmy could feel the color draining from his face as he listened to the doctor. He swallowed and closed his eyes before he spoke again. "I did have a nightmare about my father, but it was the first one since he had died. It hadn't happened in a very long time. I promise." Jimmy explained.

Dr. Mills looked at her desk again. He couldn't quite place what the look on her face was. It looked like a mix of disappointment and something else he was unfamiliar with. She began talking about post traumatic stress disorder and medicines and treatment and causes and everything. He wanted to listen, but he had heard it all before. Just exchange a few words, and it was exactly like every other conversation he had about his 'situation'. After a few more minutes, Dr. Mills excused him and he went to the recreational space.

Jimmy would always draw when he was in the rec room. It was the only thing he really liked doing. He sat down at a table and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. He began to draw a familiar scene, he hadn't drawn in a very long time. It was him and the two boys, but now they were all much older. The drawing was much more realistic and much darker. 

Jimmy has become a very proficient artist over the years he had been in Glenwood Springs. He was better than his sister was, but she was 15 at the time. Jimmy grabs his drawing off the table and crumples it up in his hand. As he walks out of the room, he tosses it into the nearest trash can. It wasn't that good, anyways. 

He walked to get his medicine before the day was over. He got 2 small paper cups with his medication. He was used to this by now; he had fallen into a routine. He immediately began walking back to his room. Even after a few minutes within taking the medicine, Jimmy's head felt foggy and his body felt heavy. Dr. Mills added sleeping pills to his ever growing list after she found out he hadn't been sleeping because of the nightmares again. He slowly blinked his eyes and laid down on top of his bed. He actually fell asleep, but jolted awake about 15 minutes later. He let out a sigh as he put his head back on his pillow. 

"Man, Cas, that sucks." Jimmy heard a familiar voice tell him. "That used to happen to me all the time, just ask Mike."   
“Don’t call me that.” Jimmy said, cooly.   
“Call you what?” Lucifer quickly turned defensive.  
“Cas. You know that’s not my name.”  
“Whatever, Jimmy.” Michael always got snarky when Jimmy brought up his name.

After an awkward moment of silence, Michael picked up the conversation, "Anyways, what Lucifer said is true. He wasn't as bad as you but, it was getting there." Michael said. Jimmy let out a defensive ‘hey’, and Michael just laughed. 

"But seriously, nightmares suck ass. I would know." Michael said, changing his tone quickly. "Just try to get some sleep. They aren't real."

"But you aren't either." Jimmy said, with a hardened tone, as he turned onto his back. It was silent the rest of the night.


	2. The Swing Set

 

CHAPTER 2

Jimmy got a full hour and fifteen minutes of sleep last night, a record for this month.

After his breakfast, he walked to the rec room. He was drawing again, as Meg walked over to him.

"Looks like you're in for a surprise today, Clarence." She said with a smirk. She had called him that ever since he told her about how he wished he was an angel. That was 15 years ago. Jimmy looked up at her with confused eyes and a tilted head. "What do you mean?"

"You have a visitor waiting." She laughed and lead him to the visitors' room.

Jimmy walked in and saw a familiar shade of red. He felt his breath shorten as he walked up to the woman. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around.

"Anna." He barely got out before his emotions take over. He threw himself into a hug and began crying. He hadn't cried in over 2 decades. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but he couldn't stop it. She was finally back. He finally had his sister back.

She pulled away and Jimmy saw she was crying, too. They stayed silent for a very long time, and it was Anna that spoke first.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I'm so sorry." She choked out. Jimmy just shook his head, knowing she didn't need to apologize for leaving. She needed to leave. He knew what would have happened to her if she stayed for her little brother. He was much happier he was seeing her now. He tried to show all that through his eyes because he couldn't form words. She slightly nodded and smiled because she knew what he was trying to say.

They calmed down and he had many questions for Anna. She was working as an art teacher and was living a couple cities over. She was married and had children, something she never thought would happen. Jimmy smiled because he knew she was actually happy. But look at him. He had a list of mental disorders and health issues with a medical prescription to match. Barely any friends, much less a family. He shoved those screaming thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on his sister’s life.

"So, why visit today? You could have come any day." He asked.

"Well, these past years, I've been busy today, Jimmy. I'm sorry." She apologized.

"But what's today?" He was legitimately asking. Anna laughed, but then realized he wasn't joking.

"Seriously?" She asked, taken aback, just to be sure. Jimmy nodded slowly, questioning. "Today's August 20th. It's your birthday." She said.

Jimmy rubbed his head, as if it would jog his memory. How could he forget his own damn birthday?

"Sorry, sorry. I forgot. I didn't even think about it. My sense of time is screwed up and-"  He started frantically explaining.

"Jimmy, it's okay. I'm not mad." Anna said, trying to calm him down. He took a deep breath and slowed down, as he mumbled something resembling a 'sorry' under his breath.

She pulled him into another hug and said, "You don't need to apologize for everything, Jimmy."

Jimmy almost said 'sorry' again. Instead he just look down and silently agreed. Anna turned to her side and grabbed a box she had earlier set down. She picked it up and held it out to Jimmy with a smile.  

"Happy Birthday, little brother." She said as she handed him the box with a smile. Jimmy reluctantly reached out and grabbed the brightly wrapped present. He carefully lifted off the lid and unfolded the tissue paper. A picture frame was inside, face down. He placed the box on a chair and carefully grabbed the present.  He flipped it over to find a painting she had done. It was Anna and Jimmy as children, smiling, and sitting on a swing set. Jimmy just stared at the piece without saying anything.

"I already cleared it with your doctor and she said it would be fine to have in your room and that-" Anna rambled, but Jimmy was barely listening.

"Thank you, Anna." He said as he stood up. He hugged the present tight to his chest and lowered his head.

"Happy Birthday, Jimmy." Anna said, as Meg came in to tell them their time was up. Jimmy immediately went to his room to figure out where he wanted his new painting.

After Meg hung it up for him, she said goodnight and left. He laid in his bed and for once in a long time, he didn’t have any trouble sleeping.

Jimmy didn't have any nightmares last night. He knew Anna was okay. Everything seemed as if it was running a bit smoother, as if everything was finally working out.

*****

He didn't eat breakfast that morning. He stayed in his room, staring at the painting. He remembered that day. It was his 11th birthday, when they sneaked out of the house and went to the park at midnight. The children were illuminated by a dull street light and the swings were falling apart. But they were smiling as if Anna just told the best joke their young ears had ever heard. For a moment, their skin looked gray and old, but as Jimmy blinked, youth flooded through them again.

Jimmy smiled as he began to walk away. As he opened the door, a thought was screaming and scratching in the back of his head. He went back to look again, much closer this time. Something about their shadows was wrong. He squinted as he realized neither him or Anna had a shadow, but rather there were 2 invisible people on either side of Jimmy. It was very subtle. The shadows were slightly off, not quite the right shape, but they were familiar. Jimmy knew them very well. Michael and Lucifer. Anna included them, as if they were family, part of their story.

Jimmy ran down the hallway. Meg tried to stop him asking what he was doing. "I need to use the phone." Jimmy said, as he rushed to the phone. He frantically punched in Anna's number as Meg stood by, annoyed.

After a few seconds, Anna picked up, and before she could say anything, Jimmy asked, "Why are they in it?" He had a harshness in his voice he hadn't recognized. He slowed down his breath and asked again, "Why... are they in the painting?"

Anna was silent for a few seconds. He could hear her thinking and taking a deep breath. "Jimmy, they are in there because they are a part of you. They have always been a part of you."

Jimmy was confused. He rubbed his eyes and didn't know how to respond. "But it's bad for me. Bad for me to believe in them."

"Jimmy, what are you saying? Are you okay? Believe in who?" Anna asked, concerned.

"You just said they were a part of me. Michael and Lucifer. That was why you put them in the painting." Jimmy explained.

"Jimmy? I never said that. I just picked up and you were mumbling about shadows and two boys and the painting. What's wrong?" Anna sounded more panic stricken with every word.

Jimmy hung up the phone and walked away, mumbling 'shit' to himself. Meg put a hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was okay. Jimmy tried to tell her about the phone call, hearing things, making things up. All he told her is, "Bring me the painting. I need to see it."

Meg nervously walked with him towards his room. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Jimmy. Not after that."

When they reached his room, he was almost running to grab the painting off the wall. He looked for Michael and Lucifer, but they weren’t there. It was just him, Anna, and their respective shadows. Jimmy felt his breathing shallow as he walked away from the painting. Before he could stop it he felt his cheeks become wet and red. A string of hurried apologies came from him and Meg walked over to calm him down. She looked at him straight on and told him they were going to go see Dr. Mills.

When they reached the doctor’s office, Meg cracked open the door. She motioned for Jimmy to wait as she went inside. He put his ear to the door, but only heard the exchanged of hushed words. After a few minutes, Meg ushered him inside the room.

Before Jimmy even sat down, he began rapidly apologizing, “I’m sorry, it was just that my sister was here and I thought, well I don’t even know what I thought. It was-”

Dr. Mills stopped him and began to talk, “I know what happened Jimmy, you don’t need to explain. Now, I am disappointed that your behaviors have relapsed, but this is nothing you haven’t seen before. Unfortunately, your sister has been labelled an emotional trigger for you, so we will be limiting visits. We will also confiscate the painting until we feel you are ready.”

Jimmy nodded and listened to his new set of issues being put in a medical format. He wondered how someone could remain so calm when they just told someone that his head broken again. He figured that it was her job to seem calm, no matter how bad the situation.

In the room he began hearing Michael behind him saying, “I’m sorry, but are you really believing this? Do you really think any pills can fix your head?” Lucifer laughed in agreement. Jimmy wanted to respond, but he didn’t. He tried to focus on the doctor.

“I mean, does she think she can really fix you?” Lucifer teased.

“Man, I’m sure as hell not a role model, but you are fucked.” Michael responded.

“Michael, look at him. Stressed, depressed, and his only friends are, well, us.”

By the time he was released, Michael and Lucifer were practically screaming for his attention. He almost ran out of the room on the way to his bedroom. Jimmy needed someone real to talk to. Someone to block out the two people that got him into this.

He reached his room and sat on his bed, looking out the window. He tried to focus on the bee circling outside. He tried to focus on anything except the two voices coming from the opposite corner of the room.

His concentration broke when he heard the door open and was thankful to see Meg coming in. She handed him a tray with his lunch on it along with his afternoon medication. She gave him a smile and he tried to return it, but it was weak.

She sat down on the opposite side of the bed and grabbed a small carrot off of the tray. “How are you feeling, Jimmy?” Jimmy knew she was being serious because she actually used his real name.

“Much better, considering the circumstances of the past hour.” He responded, taking a bite of an apple.

“Try not to stress yourself out too much, Jim.” Meg smiled and got up from the bed. She leaned in the corner of his room and crossed her arms.

Jimmy must have looked confused because Meg began to explain, “What I mean, is that I know. My older brother was just like you. He had what you had, the whole package deal. He thought we were demons, he saw and heard demons,” She cleared her throat. “Anyways, he always told me it was the worst because he felt like when anything went wrong, that the world was going to end because of it. And that it was all his fault. I know if you ever feel like that, it would suck ass. So, try not to stress yourself out.” She ended with a forced, but kind smile.

Meg walked over and grabbed Jimmy’s empty tray and walked out. Almost as soon as she left, he felt Michael and Lucifer coming back. He got up from his bed and started heading towards the rec room. He felt them creeping up on his back and practically burst through the doors.

He took a deep breath as he walked over to the art table. He sat down by Tessa and put his head in his hands.

“Hey, Jimmy.” She said, not looking up from her paper. He mumbled a friendly response. He picked up his head a slightly leaned over to see what she was working on. Tessa immediately covered it with her arm.

“Sorry, it’s just not finished yet.” She said with a smile. Jimmy nodded, understanding and grabbed a piece of paper, yet with no intention to draw anything. He just needed to be around someone.

He finally decided to draw Tessa. Sometimes he would ask her to tilt her head a certain

way or look at him, and she would agree without argument.  

Drawing Tessa did help him focus and calm down. He focused on the lines in her face and translating it onto paper. Eventually, Tessa finished, but still sat there for Jimmy. He was unsure of how much time passed, but when he looked out the window, it was already getting dark. He told her he would try to finish it this week. She nodded and grabbed her piece off the table.

"I was drawing my sister. How I last saw her." She said as she showed him the paper. In the drawing was a teenage girl sitting on her bed with a cigarette in hand.

"It's very nice, Tessa." Jimmy said. And it was. It wasn't pretty or conventional, but it was nice. He thought is was better than anything he could do. It looked very raw. He liked it.

Tessa smiled as she walked away and shouted back a 'see you tomorrow.' Jimmy waved in response as he grabbed his half-finished portrait of Tessa.

As he moved towards his room, he tried to remind himself to think of the good. He tried to remind himself to think of his present reality. He blocked out the tempting voices and closed his eyes.

As he laid in bed he heard conversations and arguments and compromises that he wished he weren't a part of. He didn't get much sleep.

That next morning, Jimmy rolled out of his bed slowly with an annoying headache. He heard loud voices coming from the hall and peeked his head out of the door.

“It’s good to be home!” He heard a man shout, as he threw his jacket to another patient. Jimmy’s vision was blurred and his head was still foggy, but he could have sworn Michael was standing in the middle of the lobby.


	3. Rule Number 1

CHAPTER 3

Jimmy shut the door quickly and felt the air in his room turn to mud. He put his ear to the door and heard the man again.

“I was almost missing this shithole!”

“Meg, looking beautiful as usual.”

“Edgar? I thought you died last month.”

What an asshole, Jimmy thought, removing his ear from the door. He got up and reached for the door as it opened.

The man was definitely Michael. He stood in Jimmy’s doorway, clad in leather and smelling like day old blood and motor oil. He looked at Jimmy inquisitively, but Jimmy couldn’t seem to form any words. I thought you weren’t real, was screaming in the back of his head, but seeing Michael stopped everything.

Michael walked around the room, picking things up, putting them down. He reached a pile of Jimmy’s art and started shuffling through it. He looked angry and disappointed and smug. Jimmy had already concluded that he always looked smug.That conclusion was thrown in the trash as the man’s face immediately turned to a white hot rage.

“Where is Sammy?” He whispered, slowly and controlled.

“I’m sorry?” Jimmy stuttered out. He had never met a Sam or a Sammy his entire life.

“Where the fuck is Sammy?” The man grabbed Jimmy’s shirt. As he hissed the words out, Jimmy felt his breath as hot as a dragons.

“I-I don’t know where or who he is.” Jimmy stuttered out. The man slowly let him go, still looking confused.

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat out. It took a second for Jimmy to process it. Michael didn’t know who he was. He swore it was Michael. The voice, the clothes, the face.

“I’m Jimmy Novak.” He said. The man let out a smug noise and turned around, walking out of Jimmy’s room.

“Dean Winchester. Charmed, I’m sure.” Dean winked as he said this, but his mask dropped as he turned to the next person to ask about the elusive Sammy.

Jimmy closed the door and slid down to the floor. Dean Winchester. The name rolls over and over in his head. It sounded familiar, like a name he heard as a child. Dean Winchester. The mysterious Michael doppelganger.

“You really think that ass is me?” Jimmy heard. He didn’t respond, but instead opened the door to maybe make sense of all of this.

As he walked into the rec room, he saw Dean Winchester interrogating Ruby, now angrier than he was before.

“What do you mean he left?” He said, trying to keep a strong face. Jimmy saw a sadness forming in Dean, though; a sadness that he wouldn’t be able to keep out for long.

“He got better and left. He’s going to Stanford now. Law school.” Ruby said, flinching with almost every word.

“Got better? Where was my phone call? Why the hell did no one tell me?” Dean yelled now, his blood boiling more with every thought. Ruby was silent and tried to become so small that she would disappear. A sad smile crept onto Dean’s lips and his head cocked a bit as he let out a harsh laugh. He got up, laughing himself all the way to the payphone. Jimmy followed, curious. Dean knew he was there and asked, “Do you have any quarters?” Jimmy shuffled in his pocket and handed the man some change. Dean punched the numbers in with enough force to break the thing. He didn’t seem to mind that Jimmy was standing by during the conversation.

“Sammy.”

“Dean? Is that you?”

“Living and breathing.” Dean was practically smoking and shooting laser beams through the payphone.

“Look, I have to explain.”

“Hell yes, you do.”

“Dr. Mills said that I shouldn’t tell you because it would be detrimental to your-”

“I don’t give a shit about what Dr. Mills said. You’re my brother. You tell me things. Especially if that thing is leaving a mental institution and going to Stanford.”

“And Jess and I are getting married.”

“Are you serious? Are you fucking with me right now? Where is Ashton Kutcher? Please tell me you at least felt some guilt about keeping all of this from me.”

The other line was silent and Jimmy could feel tensions rising to a critical level. Dean was ready to spit fire.

“I don’t care if I am dying of cancer. I don’t care if I am M.I.A. I don’t care if I am in jail. I don’t care if I am locked up in here. You tell me. You know how to contact me. It’s not a fucking secret. I never keep secrets from you, Sam. You know that. Ever since the damn day you were born, you knew that. I have nothing to hide from you, but now I show up and there is another man sleeping  in your room that doesn’t know shit about you. Now you have this, this life, a kind of big deal, and it’s the secret of the century. What the actual hell? What did I do to deserve this?”

Jimmy could hear Sam try to cover his tracks as Dean hung up the phone. Dean rambled on about how he should be happy for Sam, but he just can’t considering the circumstances. Jimmy lent an experienced ear. He was very good at listening to other people, giving them a bank to put their secrets in, because who would ever rob him? Who could he ever tell?

“Sorry, I just met you and now I look like a total ass, complaining to you about my brother.” Dean said, shaking his head as they walked back to the rec room. Everyone inside went along as normal, watching TV and playing chess. Jimmy sat down with a book and read while watching the mystery that was Dean Winchester in the corner of his eye.

“You’re shitting me.” He heard Ruby say. She and Dean were in an involved conversation about his adventures the past 6 months. He apparently escaped on Christmas day, wading through hip deep snow in the middle of the night. He flirted with the night guard until they let him through. Incidentally, that night guard was fired soon after. He hitchhiked to Kansas and hid out in his childhood home. It was apparently just a run down shack now because no one lived in it or cared for it anymore. The police almost caught him, but he got out by the skin of his teeth and ran. He ended up at someone called Bobby’s place. Bobby reluctantly let him stay, but once he had his first ‘freak-out’ (as Dean put it), he called Dr. Mills.

Jimmy had given up reading a long time ago, enthralled in this gripping tale, filled with the classics: a heroic protagonist and an easily hateable antagonist. It was the perfect audience for the story, too. Everyone in the room would never be brave enough to do something like that. They were already scared enough of themselves. It sparked something in Jimmy as well as sparking something up in Michael.  
“You’re not thinking of replacing me with him, are you Jimmy ol’ pal?” Michael said with a fake sadness.

“Not right now.” Jimmy whispered under his breath. No one was close enough nor cared enough to hear.

“Come on Jim. This guy is almost as crazy as you are. He just embraces it. He’s a psychopath.”

“He’s exactly like you.”

“True. But, still. At least I’m you. He’s a whole different human being. You think you can handle that?”

Jimmy got up and tried to walk away. By the time he reached his room, Michael had quieted down. He closed his eyes and tried to believe that Dean Winchester was just a run of the mill nightmare.

*****

Jimmy wanted to stay in his room. He didn’t want to face the fact that Michael had been personified in some freak coincidence. That’s all it was, a coincidence. But after Jimmy heard raucous laughter coming from outside, his curiosity overtook him. He is met with Dean mocking one of the old nurses that used to work in the facility.

“Dean Winchester, why am I not surprised you are back again?” Dean imitated in a raspy voice as he mocked smoking a cigarette.

“I feel so terrible for your brother. He has to live with you!” He hunched his back and shuffled around, getting in other patients’ faces with a fake grimace. When Meg walked over, she tried to hide her smile as she manually straightened Dean’s back out and told him to stop. He looked at her until she walked away and began whispering his impression, “All of you are going to hell, I’m sure of it.”

Jimmy walked over when Dean was finished. Dean flopped onto the old brown couch and Jimmy sat in the adjacent arm chair.

“Dean?” Jimmy asked hesitantly. He needed to make sure he was talking to the right smart ass with a leather jacket.

“Yes, honey?” Dean joked, as he rested his head on Tessa’s lap. He stroked his thumb over her hand as he spoke.

“Sorry, I’m just making sure.” Jimmy said, not bothering to explain, though it was obvious that caught Dean’s attention.

“What are you in here for, Jimmy?” He asked, sitting up and leaning on the armrest of the sofa.

“Too much.” Jimmy put quite simply. This was not the answer Dean was looking for and his face asked for more information. So, Jimmy told him about Anna and dad and his older brothers and his long-gone mother.

“Schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, insomnia, you name it.” Jimmy summarized.

“Nice to meet you, I’m PTSD, ADHD, and anxiety.” Dean responded as if it was a joke. Something light that you would talk about at the dinner table.  Dean could tell that it made Jimmy uncomfortable, so he tried to change the subject.

“So, why did you have to ‘make sure’ I was me? Is that just a thing you do?” Dean asked. By now, Jimmy was getting annoyed with all of Dean’s prying, but he gave him an explanation anyways.

“There is this man I see, and have seen for years now, who’s name is Michael. He sounds and looks and dresses and acts exactly like you. It was just a bit of a shock when he showed up and other people could see him, too.”

After Jimmy explained, Dean let out an impressed sound and said, “So, what you’re saying is that I’m like your Tyler Durden?”

This comment left Jimmy confused and Dean just laughed and told him never mind as he walked off to find something more interesting.  

*****

Jimmy woke up in the middle of the night to see his door cracked open slightly. He rolled out of his bed and shuffled closer to the figure in the lobby. Of course it was Dean. He had a feeling that it would always be Dean. He was smoking a cigarette and once he saw Jimmy, he threw it on the linoleum floor.

“What’s up, Jim?” Dean said, grinding the cigarette butt into the floor.

“Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep,” Jimmy mumbled as he shuffled closer to the dark outline of the man, “It’s pretty typical of me.”

“Yeah? My brother was like that for a little while.” Something tugged inside Dean, but he just shook his head and tried to act like he was fine.

“I’m sorry about the whole brother thing, by the way.” Jimmy said, not yet looking Dean in the eyes.

“Yeah, me too. It’s better for him, though. He deserved it.” After Dean said this, Jimmy silently agreed. He went through a similar thing with his siblings. Brothers escaped and sisters survived. He was the collateral damage, but he was okay with that.

“Lucifer being locked up is for the best, right, Castiel?”

Jimmy’s head shot up, eyes locking with the man’s. He didn’t remember his eyes being blue, but that was the least of his concerns.

“Why did you call me that?” A hardness was in Jimmy’s voice that he hadn’t used in a while.

“Isn’t that your name around here? Or do you like Clarence better? Rumor has it you and Meg are a little something more than nurse and patient.” The man’s smile widened and his eyes glowed with a strange hunger.

Jimmy punched him in the face as hard as he could. As he was doubled over, Jimmy pushed him against the wall. With his face centimeters away from the man’s ear, he hissed, “I don’t know who the hell you are, but I never want you to talk to me again.” Jimmy let him go and began to walk away. Dean swung at the back of his head, taking Jimmy by surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know me, pal? Do you-” Dean was cut off by a kick to his gut that knocked him down. Dean spit out blood from the earlier punch and said, “For a little dorky guy, you hit pretty hard.”

That fueled a flame inside of Jimmy, and he got down on the floor, beginning to throw punches. He highly underestimated Dean, who almost immediately rolled him over and began returning the favor. This pushed them into a full fledged fight, blood and spit covering the lobby floor. Neither of them were backing down anytime soon. Through a sea of pain and punches, a nurse came over and grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders.

“Jimmy, stop. Calm down.” Jimmy looked bewildered into the nurse’s eyes after he sees the scene happening behind her. The man’s eyes shone an unnatural blue and wings unfolded from his back.

“Don’t mess with me, Cas. You should know that by now.”


End file.
